September 07, 2011 02:23pm
Eve Rhony's Lusty Tales
Source: Through Adult Industry News
by: Company Press Release
More Tales of a Lusty Lass by Eve Rhony...
I'm loving the whole "one having to fuck/fondle many" theme. Got me to thinking about the TV programme "The Bachelor." I've never seen it but the premise is clear from the ads. I've seen the Family Guy Bachelorette version, Brian wins! Anyway, imagine it with sex. One man and what is it, twenty women? Erotically whittling them down to one.
Twenty women, in their finery, assemble on a grand patio, coiffed and set, smiling their best smiles. Pearly whites glittering in the candlelight, champagne glasses in hand. They're not allowed to speak. He drinks them in relishing the task ahead. He asks them to arrange themselves in a twenty-long row across the lawn. Starting at one end, he approaches the first woman. He asks her to take one step forward so that the nineteen others can jealously look on. As he appraises her with his eyes, his hands reach for her hair, move to her shoulders and immediately cup and fondle her breasts, giving the nipples a little pinch through the fabric of her dress.
She gasps and giggles but he places a finger to her lips, gesturing for her to be quiet. She stiffens and strikes a serious expression. His hands move smoothly around her waist, across her back, grabbing and fondling her rump and crack, as far down the back of her thighs as his hands will reach without stooping. Then, stooping, he feels her calves and ankles. He takes a cursory glance at her feet for any deformities, weirdly long, bent or hammer toes, bunions, rough skin. Hopefully they'd all be perfectly pedicured. Now riding his palms, with a broad grip, up the shins as far as the knees — whatever the dress length. Standing he places his left hand at the small of her back and pulls her in close. He notes her response, the uncertain then willing way she yields to his touch. His right hand flat on her stomach pushes down and his fingertips inch toward her crotch.
He is aware that she's holding her breath. Briefly he presses his middle finger inward, searching through the fabric for the soft flesh of her vulva, her bulb of vestibule. Feeling the flesh give way as her labia part he watches her intently before suddenly releasing her, standing back and dropping his arms to his sides. He nods for her to step back in line and passing to number two he repeats the ceremony, three, four, five and so on.
By this time the women in line are getting aroused. He can see in his peripheral vision, fidgeting, lip-licking, head shaking. A string of yearling mares awaiting the judge to feel up their fetlocks! He could almost see their curling lips, sneers of lust and even imagined he heard a winnie! With each new specimen came a greater degree of willingness, as he touched, he had to remind them to be quiet and still. Finally, number twenty — wet and urgent — probably had the hardest job, holding herself back from melting at his briefest touch.
Completing the row, he bids goodnight and enters the mansion, leaving the women to breathe and tingle. His job this night is to pour himself a drink, undress and look over the photos of each contestant — remember the smell and feel of her — and so begin the process of elimination.
In their massive mansion suite — the East wing, the women drink more champagne, play with and fondle each other. Finishing off the job their host had so expertly begun. In the following hours, orgasmic yelps puncture the night air and freeze the foxes crossing the lawn...
To be continued ...back in three weeks time (after my holiday). Eve x
In the meantime please visit my blog http://everhony.wordpress.com for more lusty tales and images.